


Azteca Tacos IV

by cincoflex



Series: Azteca Tacos [4]
Category: Murphy Brown (TV)
Genre: F/M, Murals, head colds, rounding the bases!, zoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 06:04:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17761199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cincoflex/pseuds/cincoflex
Summary: More highjinx!





	Azteca Tacos IV

Azteca Tacos IV

**Avery**

The lassitude couldn’t last forever, although I wanted it to. Having Xochi draped over me as we both lounged in post-orgasmic sluggishness was sweet. But I was marinating in my own procreative juices, which was gross, and if I didn’t clean up, the drying glue it would create through my pubic hair would be hellishly painful.

This was the flip side of intimacy—that awkward clean-up phase. I started to shift a little and she sat up, giving me her own slightly mortified stare.

“We really went _at_ it, didn’t we?” Xochi observed. “Uh, thank you.”

A wave of warmth made me reach up and cup her face. “Out of five stars, I give it . . . seven thousand or so. Would _definitely_ do again. And again and again and again. Can’t wait for the sequel.”

She collapsed across my chest, laughing, and I hugged her tightly, doing my best to let her know what I was feeling.

“Oh Avery, we really are sort of loco,” Xochi finally sighed. “Come on, you need to wash up, I know.”

“Just a little,” I admitted.

“Yeah well you can rinse out your tightie whities in the bathroom sink,” Xochi clambered off me, reaching for my hands to help pull me off her sofa.

“Bold of you to assume I wore underwear,” I teased.

She arched an eyebrow at me. “Baby, it’s winter in Washington DC: of course you wore underwear. Seasoned commandos know when to insulate the gear.”

That made me laugh and getting up wasn’t quite so embarrassing after that. Xochi pointed me in the direction of the little bathroom at the far end of the loft. “Clean up; I can bring you some sweats you can wear home.” When I looked her up and down skeptically, she added, “Jan keeps a few spare clothes in his locker for snow days.”

I nodded and headed in to clean up.

The bathroom was small but nice, with a modern shower/tub combo and a low sink that made cleaning up . . . easier. The flow was instantly hot and I figured the bathroom must be over the building’s water heater even as I tried not to look at my smirking reflection in the mirror. The underwear was pretty saturated but not much semen had soaked through the slacks. Unfortunately what had was in a very obvious spot.

Xochi knocked and with a little fumbling I took the grey sweats from around the door and finished dressing, feeling more embarrassment now. I folded up the slacks around the damp underwear and finally opened the door, peeking out.

“Coffee,” she called from the other end of the loft. “Cream? Sugar? Cinnamon?”

“All three, thanks!” I replied. “Got a bag?”

Xochi brought one over along with a steaming mug that had the Georgetown seal on it. I took it gratefully.

“You know, I can wash those if you’ve got the time,” Xochi offered. “The shop has a washer and dryer for general clean up and I was about to do a load of laundry anyway.”

I hesitated and Xochi added, “Ninety minutes and you wouldn’t have to explain your clothing choices to your mother.”

That hadn’t even occurred to me and I nodded quickly. “Sold.” And I kissed Xochi’s forehead. “Thank you.”

“Although having you bluff your way through the sweats of shame could be pretty hilarious,” she teased.

“No, having been on the receiving end of Mom’s interrogations, I’d prefer to pass.”

So we got a little domestic. I carried down the basket, doing my best not to be overly interested in the piled lingerie while Xochi led the way to an alcove downstairs that housed a small washer and dryer.

“They use it for the polishing cloths and their aprons mostly,” she told me. “I’m just glad it’s here--the closest laundromat is about six miles up the road.”

Back up to the loft and we settled in again on the sofa, this time simply wrapped around each other, talking quietly, and eventually we both fell asleep.

**Xochi**

I was still stunned by my, er, response and feeling shy and panicky but seeing that Avery was somewhere in the same spectrum helped. And normality, like laundry helped as well. I knew I wasn’t going to send him out with damp underwear, which made for a great excuse to invite Avery to stay a while. We got the laundry started and went back up to cuddle . . .

Cuddling. Such a simple act, so amazing. I’d missed this, a lot more than I thought I would. My family, small as it is, does a lot of hugging and touching. My parents hug me, and each other, and you don’t know what a good thing you have until you don’t anymore. Part of the loneliness of moving was losing a percentage of touch.

Oh I have Lucrezia, and Danielle, my counterpart at Georgetown specializing in Asian Art along with a loose circle of other work friends but it’s not quite the same. I’m still the new kid on the block and trying to keep the long-distance contacts takes work, as everyone knows. Still, having a sort of overload with Avery not only had me feeling a little blissed out, but also aware of how easily I could get addicted to him.

Was I ready? Or would this just be bouncing out of one relationship into another? I didn’t really know and I didn’t want to brood about it at the moment. All I did know is sleeping against a big warm guy on my sofa was a delightful way to spend a Sunday afternoon. It would be even better on a bed with no clothes but one step at a time, right?

Eventually though I knew it had to end. For one thing I needed to pull everything out of the dryer if I didn’t want it to wrinkle, and for another I still had the last part of my grant to fill out if I wanted to submit it in time, so I attempted to shift off of Avery and get started. He made a little protesting noise and hugged me closer.

“We need to retrieve your pants,” I murmured to him.

“Do we _have_ to?” Avery opened his eyes, and I noticed how sweetly blue they were.

“In the long run, yes. At the immediate moment, we can hold off a little,” I conceded, snuggling against him again. “I like this.”

“Me too,” he sighed, “I know I’m imposing on your hospitality and we both have things we need to do but this feels terrific.”

“Yeah,” I chuckled. “But the real world awaits. I’ve got a grant to finish up. How about you?”

“I have an op ed piece I should be editing, Benny needs a walk, and I’m updating my resume again,” Avery sighed. “WREN pays the bills but I want more out of life. What’s the grant for?”

“I want to study codices in Comacalco Mexico next summer and help decipher a few sections that haven’t been interpreted yet,” I told him. “If it passes through the committee and makes the budget.”

“How long will you be gone, assuming it gets granted?” he wanted to know.

“Six weeks all told,” I sighed. “It’s pretty close to the Gulf and I intend to spend what time I’m not in field out on the beach.”

Avery made a hungry little sound that made me giggle again. “Jealous?”

“Definitely. Right now any and every tropical beach sounds great, and the added bonus of you in a bikini is a plus.”

“As if,” I snickered. “Sorry, I’d be swimming and snorkling, not posing for the photoshoot in your mind.”

“Both,” Avery offered and I could hear the grin in his voice. “Both is good.”

**Avery**

I left a while later, after a bit more kissing and coffee, feeling nothing short of amazing. There was just something about Xochi that had me practically bouncing and while a good part of it was how we clicked, physically, there was more to it than that, thank God.

I could get laid at anytime with very little effort. It’s not a brag, just a casual fact. I could go alone into any number of bars in Georgetown and come out with someone within half an hour, guaranteed, but that wasn’t what I wanted these days. Sex in and of itself is great but I’m at a point in life where I want and need and deserve more, frankly. The whole enchilada so to speak and I sincerely hoped that Xochi and I were the start of something along those lines.

Certainly it was . . . promising. At this age I never thought I’d blow my wad while making out--that was embarrassing to say the least--but given the sensory overload that was frying my sexual circuits I think my response was justified, yeow! Luscious, determined with just enough erm, bossiness to make me quiver . . . yeah I was feeling almost giddy at this point.

So giddy in fact that when I got home I almost missed the fact that Mom was camped out in front of the TV, wrapped in a blanket and looking miserable, Benny at her feet.

“Where have _you_ been?” she snuffled at me balefully, like a basset hound.

“The zoo,” I blurted before I could think. Mom’s gaze went from soggy to interested in seconds.

“The zoo?” she echoed before sneezing. I could have made my escape while she honked into her Kleenex but decided not to, and perched myself at the very end of the sofa, waiting for the next question. “Good lord, why? Are the pandas losing their green cards?”

“Because I haven’t been in a while,” I bluffed, knowing it was an exercise in idiocy. 

“Right,” Mom snorted, somewhat juicily before her expression shifted to crafty. “Oh God . . . were you on a date? At the zoo? Just how young _is_ she? Or he?”

“She is a grown woman,” I interjected, feeling my face get hot again because yes, I was remembering just how much of a grown woman Xochi was. “And it was her suggestion, Mom. So . . . you’re sick?”

“Head cold and don’t change the subject,” Mom snapped, waving her Kleenex at me. “The zoo. What kind of woman wants to watch bears farting and tigers pacing?”

“Farting and pacing aren’t limited to the zoo,” I replied, “I’ve been to your studio.”

That got a quick grin out of her and Mom just cocked her head and looked at me. I met her gaze, not saying anything but I suppose I didn’t have to, not with the little smirk on her face.

“You _like_ this one,” she observed. “Okay then.”

“I like this one. Have you taken any Dayquil yet? Do we need to stock up on OJ?”

“Yes and yes. And I want Fig Newtons. And chili for dinner.”

I got up, sighing. “If I get you chili I know who’ll be pacing and farting tonight.”

“I love you too,” Mom glared at me, trying not to grin. “So when do I get a name for the woman who’s left a hickey on you?”

I froze.

Mom laughed. “Gotcha. Two packages of Fig Newtons.”

“You,” I pointed at her, “are evil.”

“What else is new?” Mom hooted.

**Xochi**

Monday afternoon, once classes were done, I headed to the dojo for a workout with Sensei Hiro. I stop in at least once or twice a week as time permits because judo is one of the disciplines that keeps me strong. I needed it. I’d been practicing the sport right up until the car accident and when I was overwhelmed by my new handicap I never thought I’d be able to take it up again, but I did.

It helps. It helped then and now, letting me focus and giving me a way to use my size and strength to better myself. All that being said it’s still a very male-dominated sport so it’s rare to see other women my age at the dojo. I don’t mind--I’ve proved my skill and the regulars know me well. Sensei Hiro has asked me to teach some of the younger students and I might take him up on that . . . eventually. For now, just getting in a good workout is all I’m interested in.

So imagine my surprise when I spotted a vaguely familiar figure in the waiting area of the storefront gym. I had to check twice, not totally sure of what I was seeing but yep, that height, that blonde hair . . . it was Georgie all right. I made my way over to them, surprised and showing it I guess.

“Ooooh, _Anata wa kiken ni miemasu_!” they told me, throwing long arms around my shoulders and hugging me tightly.

“What?” I asked, hugging back. That was one of the remarkable things about them; you felt like you’d known Georgie forever.

“I said you look dangerous,” they smiled. “How are you, sweetie?”

“Good,” I replied automatically. A few of the other students were looking our way, eyeing us both with interest. I scowled at them.

“Oh let them look,” Georgie waved a hand. “So I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“No,” I assured them. “I’ve got time. What’s up?”

Now Georgie looked a little sheepish, and gave a sigh. “I just wanted to see how, ah, things were going. Look,” they admitted, “We’re nosy and we care about Avery and you of course . . .”

I nodded. “Ah, good,” I tried not to blush but I felt my face get hot. “We just had a nice date.”

Georgie cocked an eyebrow, a twitch of a smile on their lips. “Yes?”

“Yes,” I agreed, trying not to fidget. “The zoo in fact.”

“Did you make him buy you cotton candy?” came the little tease. Georgie laid a hand on my arm and added, “Hey, I know it feels a little awkward but Avery is such a good man and, well, he likes you a lot, Xochitl.”

“You guys have been _talking_ about me?” I tensed up, feeling a little wary now. 

Georgie gave a little exasperated sound. “No, mostly we’ve been talking about _him_ , in fact. Under those cute glasses and scruffy beard is a shy, slightly nervous mensch with a few insecurities.”

I tried not to smile but it came out anyway. “He’s a lot of things, Georgie. Is this about him being bi?”

They nodded, letting out a huge, relieved sigh. “Yes. Poor boy was a little tense about how you’d take that, despite the fact that you knew. I mean, that you knew before he brought it up, right?”

“No offense but you’re his ex, so that’s a pretty solid case for Avery’s good taste and predisposition,” I pointed out. “Yes it threw me for a moment but it’s . . .” I gave a shrug. “Who he is. It will take some getting used to if we’re going to become more serious but for now I’m okay. Is that what you and Avery need to hear?”

“It helps,” Georgie admitted with a dazzling smile. “Frankly I know he’s in good hands but I want to be sure that you’re okay with it.”

I hesitated a moment, considering everything I knew and felt and hoped deep inside before replying to them. “Every relationship is full of unknowns, Georgie. I like Avery a lot and the more I’m around him the stronger it gets, but we’ll see how it goes. I can’t make promises about the future.”

They nodded and smiled at me. “Perfect answer. Well I think each of you will be just what the other needs, thank whatever celestial being you believe in. I just want you to know I’m always ready to lend an ear or shoulder if you need it--although not after nine at night. Trevor and I need our beauty sleep.”

**Avery**

As luck would have it, WRENN loved the piece on the march, and wanted me to do a follow-up about some of the neighborhoods within the DC area most involved with immigration and the border wall issue, so I spent time calling in favors with some former Wolf Network folks for some behind-the-scenes access to their reference database for information and then frantically writing once I had it.

So that translated into going from a lot of free time to being hellishly busy, especially when Mom mentioned that Frank was considering a trip to the border in hopes of doing some interviews there of folks in the caravans. The fact that his Spanish was sketchy didn’t bother me as much as the fact I’d missed that opportunity myself, so I was a little sulky too. I come by a competitive nature through three parents so it’s not a surprise even though I do my best to keep it from overriding my better nature.

Usually. The upshot was that I while I texted Xochi through the next ten days I didn’t actually see her until I slipped into the Georgetown Public Library late on a Saturday afternoon. I was dealing with a ‘too much screentime’ headache that wasn’t helped much by the strong scent of paint but I shoved that aside when I saw her.

Xochi was on a ladder, wearing splotted overalls and an equally speckled tee-shirt that was clinging like Saran wrap. She had her hair up in a pile of braids on top of her head, and that look of intense concentration that let me know I needed to wait a minute for her to acknowledge I was there, so I did. Finally Xochi glanced over at me in the doorway and flashed a grin.

“Hey there! Come to see the latest train wreck of mine?”

“It’s looking pretty amazing,” I assured her as I glanced over the mural of what looked to be a scene at one of the early Federalist Conventions. Lots of muted tones, lots of scowling Founding Fathers--just the sort of thing the patrons of the library would expect. I liked that one of the guys in the corner had his hands on a book and I almost swore it said ‘Penthouse’ on the spine. I snickered.

Xochi snickered back. “I’m changing it of course. Don’t need any more outrage than I’ve already gotten on it. So . . . Long time no see. What does a girl have to do to get a kiss around here?”

I bounced over to her and hesitated just a moment; she looked down. “Most of the spots are dry,” she assured me. “Most.”

“Good enough,” and I kissed her.

Delicious. Suddenly my body was demanding to know why I hadn’t been getting busy with hers, and I shivered when Xochi giggled against my mouth.

“Woo, I think you missed me,” she teased gently, smiling up into my face. “Missed you too.”

“Work is hell,” I admitted. “So I vote we leave it behind and indulge ourselves for a while.”

“Got my vote. Let me finish cleaning up while we consider . . . plans.”

I liked the sound of that, and cheerfully helped her carry material out to her car. We agreed to meet at Azteca Tacos and did about twenty minutes later, joining the dinner line that was nearly out the door. I slipped my arm around Xochi’s shoulders and she slid an arm around my waist, the two of us grinning.

“I think we should go for extra guacamole,” Xochi told me softly. “So I can eat it off your body.”

Ah the imagery! I tried not to groan. “That’s obscene--you can’t do that to innocent avocados like that!”

“I can and I will,” Xochi threatened in her silkiest tone. “That is . . . if you’re in any way interested in dip-related activities.”

“Oh we both know the answer to that,” I replied, my voice a little shaky. “Shall we get things . . . to go?”

She purred back at me.

**Xochi**

There are things I notice about a guy right away--I know we all have preferences kind of built into our radar; features that attract us to someone. Me, I like broad shoulders for one. A guy doesn’t have to be a football player to get my attention, but nice big shoulders are a plus, yeah. 

Avery has those. I noticed them right off when we first started seeing each other at Azteca. He wears a jacket nicely, you know?

I also like my guys with brains. Not in the stuffy academic way, or talk three levels above normal conversation ways but able to carry on a discussion with thoughtful arguments and salient observations. A plus if they can make a good case for seeing their point of view on something.

And I just melt for a gentle guy. Harder to define, but for me that’s someone in touch with his emotions and not afraid of talking about them. Someone willing to open up and even let me take care of them a bit without becoming completely dependent on me. Being willing to follow my lead half the time will win me over every time, so finding out that Avery was more than happy to get extra guacamole had me giddy. Silly I guess, but enough to make heading back to my place an exercise in staying the speed limit.

We clattered up the fire escape stairs and into my place, happy to be out of the chill. Avery set the food down on the little kitchen counter and turned to me with that sweet damned smile of his. “So . . . dinner?”

“Come here,” I murmured, holding out my arms. He moved, sweeping me up and I wrapped myself around him, doing my best impression of a tight sweater. Ooooh that kiss! Now that Avery knew I meant business he was all for it, returning the lip service with gusto, holding me up with no effort at all.

I ended up pressed against the wall, trying to kiss every part of Avery’s face that I could while at the same time trying to breathe. Not easy but I was pretty good at multi-tasking. For his part he seemed equally determined to inhale me, which got me giggling as his beard brushed ticklish places.

“We . . . gotta talk,” Avery finally gasped, setting my rump on the counter. “Just so we know.”

I knew what he meant and gave a nod; there were still things that needed to be clarified, so I took a breath and rubbed my nose with his. “Gotcha. So I have a Nuvaring prescription, but if you want to use condoms too I’m fine with that.”

Those dimples of his killed me as he smiled. “Okay, good to know, um . . . I’m clean . . .”

I snorted. “Yeah I was sure of that; I am too. Hey!” That last was because one of Avery’s hands had wandered up between my painter overalls and tee-shirt. I wasn’t objecting to the location, just the temperature, but he didn’t look a BIT sorry at all.

“I seek warmth,” he told me playfully.

“Me too,” I shot back and slid my own hands up under his sweater. Wooo! Muscles, a little fur and all of it downright hot to the touch. “Oh you liar!” I accused. “You already HAVE all the warmth!”

“I need more,” Avery insisted and pulled me into another one of those soul-melting kisses. At some point my braids tumbled down but I was beyond caring, lost in tasting my boy again. My entire body was focused on him, and the feeling was mutual because somehow we made it out to the sofas, dropping on the biggest one to continue making out while the food got cold.

And bits of clothing got moved. Well peeled off and dropped; shoved up and aside for better access if I’m being honest. I absolutely needed to get my hands on Avery’s torso. At the same time he seemed pretty determined to check mine out as well, so I ended up topless, half in and out of my painter overalls with Avery bare-chested and smirking like a jack-o-lantern.

**Avery**

Generally I’m not breast man; when it comes to women I tend to find my attention drawn to say, a curvy ass far more often than a chest, but that was before I found myself enthralled by the glorious bounty that had been hiding under the front panel of Xochi’s overalls. Round, bouncy . . . the surge of lust that shot through me as I uncovered them was so strong I was nearly in pain and all I could do was whimper a little.

“Unghhhhh . . .” was about all I managed as I cupped one possessively. 

“Ooooh,” Xochi purred, which had me throbbing in response. She slipped a hand over mine encouragingly and I savored the heft of that luscious weight. Her nipples were pebbled medallions and I nuzzled first one and then the other, nearly overwhelmed by the enticing scent of her skin. Xochi squirmed a bit, flicking her tongue across her upper lip, looking unfocused. It was a good look for her to be honest, although my own concentration was scattered to say the least. 

Her fingers found my nipples and from the first flick I was throbbing because yes they’re very much an erogenous zone for me. Xochi giggled at that, and it was sort of a battle to figure out who was going to get nibbled first. I won by dint of being 1) on top and 2) being a little more ruthless. I pressed my teeth around the nearest nub and made her squeak. That’s not usually a sexy sound but the way SHE did it was. So I worried one nipple and then the other while Xochi raked her nails along my shoulders. 

Things were getting serious now. I had enough restraint to take a breath and look her in the face, aware of this very important moment in the course of things. Wanted her to say yes . . . hell, wanted her, period but I also knew it was important to get agreement about it.

“Ring’s in,” she managed breathlessly. It took me a second to realize what ring she meant.

“So we’re . . . good?” I tried not to sound desperate.

“Avery, if we were any gooder we’d already be on round two!” Xochi shot back. “Please get your pants off before I die of terminal horniness!”

Good enough for me. From the increased raking of her nails on my back I got the message that we could bypass some of the extended foreplay this time and after some weird contortions in getting the rest of ourselves naked, I managed to nestle down between Xochi’s muscled thighs, feeling so aroused I was light-headed. Some delicate shifting, and I pressed into her, shuddering because the pleasure was so damned good it was almost painful. Apparently she was feeling it too, and gave a wriggle under me, syncopating with my own thrusts.

And we got fierce. I’m not sure how I held out as long as I did--everything about her body was driving me out of my mind in sensual overload. Xochi kissed me, wrapped around me, drove her heels hard against my ass as I plunged into the slick heat of her body. I tried hold back; to give as much as I was feeling but It wasn’t easy. Finally Xochi reached a hand down between us, rubbing herself and the feel of that, the damned sexy thought of that set me off in hard spasms so delicious all I could do was ride them out, groaning the entire time.

And then her orgasm pulsing around my prick had me shivering too, holding her and kissing her as she finally went limp under me, smiling. Both of us were so damned sated for the moment that we just sprawled there, wrapped around each other in a post-coital daze. I couldn’t think and didn’t want to think. All I wanted was to stay there, my face pressed in the soft space between Xochi’s neck and shoulder, breathing in the musk and feeling her strong heartbeat under mine.

She hummed a little and I fell asleep for a little while.


End file.
